


Stories Under the Stars

by Shadowsage



Series: Starfire and Crimson [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst and Feels, Close Friend Fluff, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, How Do I Tag, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot Collection, Patch 2.0: A Realm Reborn Spoilers, Pining, Spoilers in general, ok mostly angst and feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-10-29 04:02:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20790308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowsage/pseuds/Shadowsage
Summary: A series of (mostly) sequential oneshots, framed by how my Warrior of Light would at least begin to go about telling them, of scattered scenes from mostly post 2.0 MSQ for Final Fantasy: XIV, with a few bits of character background and anecdotes mixed in.  Titles should be clear enough to let you pick what you want to out of the mix.Written from (mostly ish) Sage/WoL's perspective.





	1. Prologue- Storyteller

They had all left the tower, with _ him _ sealed inside. Shadowsage Seika, the Warrior of Light and Champion of Eorzea, had put on a brave face as he had looked up and behind him at the inside of the Tower to tell them, ‘The future is where his destiny awaits.’ She had smiled, refusing to let a scream be the last thing G’raha saw of her, shuttering away her emotions in the polite mask she always wore. Oh but it had _ hurt, _as she slowly filtered from the lead of the group on the way back to the Find, to the one farthest behind, before she stopped at a bend, and turned around. It took far less time for her feet to bring her back to the large inlaid doors. At first it was just a hand gently pressed to them- but then she was pounding with her fists- there would be bruises, later, and she was not sure how to explain them away- but she gave all of her might into trying to get through again even though she knew academically she could not. It was a few hours, during which she had eventually dissolved to leaning her forehead against the door, hands slouched, knees pressed against the golden inlay as screams, shouts and curses had dissolved into loud sobs. Her tears were silent now, the initial violence spent in the first few minutes, howling invectives (in an impressive array of languages) at the impish historian who broke her heart for doing so and not even allowing her a proper goodbye.

Rammbroes was the one who eventually came back, looking for her, and chose the right place to search. He found her curled up, asleep and worn out. They never spoke of it, of the tear-stained mess she had been when he woke her, how she dried her eyes and all that remained were the bloodshot lines that could have been attributed to the long nights of research. They never spoke of the comforting hug, or shaky breaths she needed in that embrace before she walked away with him back to camp. Only a brief conversation arranging a space for her to set up a tent to spend the night amongst the researchers of the Find, whenever she would wander by in the future- and she most assuredly did return.

No matter the season, she would always have a small basket of La Noscean blood oranges, and a bottle of sweetwine when she came back. The food she would bring for herself would vary with the season, but always something portable and easy, and enough for a full day or two, each time with cordial greetings to Rammbroes, and the Sons of St. Coinach at the Find, a little more awe amongst those who had not known her during the venture into Syrcus Tower each time she would come back. Only the large roegadyn who led the expedition knew to whence she would disappear, for the day or two she would spend, and each time, he would gently pat her on the shoulder before she left.

The first time she returned, it was with Thancred as a shadow- Minfilia was not the only Scion to notice a change in her behavior after the expedition was considered completed, and the Antecedent was also not the only one concerned, and wished to know the cause. So it fell to the espionage specialist to follow the Warrior, because any attempts by the rest to ask her directly had led nowhere. So he followed, and watched the Raen who constantly disguised herself as a Hyur break the glamour, and look around, as if to ensure she was alone. He was safely perched in an outcropping mid-level high, where most would forget to look up, not her. She wielded the stars, and so often would remember to look up when searching for something- or someone.

Satisfied that she was alone, she unfurled her bedroll, and folded it into a cushion, the cord of wood and sticks set up as a fire that would last well into the night. A small basket of a half dozen oranges was set at the base of the large door, the firelight making the golden inlay shimmer with an inner light, as if it were fit to swing open at any moment. Sage set up her seat to face the doors across the fire, and sat down comfortably, as if she were settling in at the campfire with any of the Scions or their allies for an evening- it was as she began speaking that he _understood_.

“You would not believe what has happened since you locked yourself away in that Tower- if you are listening at all in there. ...I hope you are. I brought you oranges, just like the ones you asked for when you won the private archery contest we had. I’ll leave them at the door for you. ...Maybe I am a fool for doing this, but I miss you- it was easy to laugh at your hijinx, though I’d bet you never really noticed when I was ever so shyly looking at you, not with the fervor you had for the research we were accomplishing. It may have only been a few weeks, but I really loved the late nights pouring over forgotten tomestones recovered from the base of the Tower, how soft your ears were when they would accidentally- or ‘accidentally’ flick across my cheek when we were both looking at the same tiny screen. 

“I’ve kept busy- primals do not slay themselves, and idiots who provoke the beast tribes do keep inspiring them do do stupid things. Even the _ moogles _ summoned a primal, can you believe that? A moogle king from their own legends, you… would have loved the silliness of it, probably as much as you would have laughed at how simply outrageous it was, to then have to fight an oversized flying fluffball…”

Thancred left at that point- he had seen enough. What she was doing was all too familiar to him, and reminded him too keenly of the way others would mark the passing of people they had loved, when there were graves- or grave markers- to visit, to talk at what little remained. It didn’t matter that her intended audience was very much alive- she would still likely never see him again, sealed behind the doors she addressed. He appreciated the quiet astrologian, for all she hid what she was for now, it was a small enough thing to keep a secret for a little peace. Much like this one he would keep for her- while the others were worried, he could tell them she grieved, and would advise it best to let her be.

Sage took another drink of wine, and sighed as her ivory scaled tail curled loosely around her, half the bottle gone a little too quickly, and as she started talking again, the stories turned into memories in her mind, no few coming to life before her as she hoped, somewhere, he could hear her…


	2. Hidden Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post MSQ quest: Lord of the Whorl.
> 
> Sage has to explain herself to Y'shtola

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my headcannon puts Au’ra closer to dragonkin than voidsent, okaaayyy?

Looking at the near-empty bottle of wine and the still mostly-full basket of sandwiches, she laughs softly. 

“Here I am, a bit drunk which I never am, telling stories I have not told anyone, to a door. I know I lost my sanity somewhere along the way, but now I am unsure where. Congratulations, G’raha, you incorrigible punk. ...Though I am drunk enough that maybe I could get through mentioning some of my personal history, since I never could tell you much of it before. I might regret that now. I actually liked being able to just be a person around you and not some Grand Savior. There’s only a few people I can do that with- certainly not half of the Scions even see me as anything else.

“I will never forget you, yeah? ...Rather like I will never be able to forget fighting the moogle’s primal, after doing so many mail delivery runs for them. I swear, _ one more letter to ‘The Long One’ from the Sylphs to Humbrect Longhaft… _ You do not need to hear those bits. It’s… silly. Not that you seemed to mind silly. I am rambling, and I do not even know where to begin. Should I start with my departure from Sharlayan? My time with the Maelstrom shortly thereafter? When I was a wandering chirurgeon, and happened across Miounne in Gridania shortly after seeing living moogles for the first time in my life? You asked about primals, perhaps it is of Ifrit, which I was wholly unprepared for, or Titain, or Garuda with which I should begin my story for you. No. None of that.”

Sage ran a hand through er hair, and brushed a lock of it behind a currently unhidden horn, ghostly silver eyes now staring into the flames.

“I have faced two primals, since we parted, one more than the last time I visited you here. But primals are not what comes first to mind…”

  
********************************************************************************************

She stepped off the boat to Moraby bay, sighing happily, looking forward to getting changed. Dry though she may now be, saltwater-soaked clothes were never comfortable, and now she’d have to get the salt out of _ everything. _ It was even crusted behind her horns- the glamour concealing them had flickered, uncomfortably, during the fight, but it held just fine now. Yugiri was nearby- she knew, the woman was an auri just like she was, the veil did little to hide the horns if one knew what they were looking for. She had a hard time not laughing, when the shinobi had tried to explain that her appearance might scare people not used to it to her- she was entirely too familiar with the concept. Even among the Scions, vanishingly few even had an inkling she was anything other than a Hyur woman.

“Thancred, you can stop boring holes into the back of my head when you think I’m not looking- I can almost _ hear _ you brooding over something or other from here.”

"If I could bore holes with a look, it would be easier to see what's inside your head. But if it helps, I can brood a little quieter."

Sage sighed, and _ almost _rolled her eyes, her currently invisible tail flicking in annoyance. She had let it be loose instead of curled around her leg like it usually was. It would be a wonderful thing to leave it loose again, the last time she was able to do without the glamour and secrecy was a few years ago now, when she still worked actively for the Maelstrom on a privateer that tended to float nearer Thavnair and the Sirensong Sea..

"Whatever it is, mayhap just better to ask than try to figure it out, yes? Or let whatever it is go and carry on with your day. I for one will be very glad to get a shower and get changed- I have salt crusted in my hair and it _ itches _ terribly."

The spy smirked at her then, his much shorter than hers white hair ruffling in the sea breeze. Sage did roll her eyes then, and almost flicked at him with her tail- that would have been a bad thing… Instead, she bent down, relacing a boot- and when she stood, flung a clump of sand at him. It was one of the most childish things she had ever done around any of them, and it worked- he was caught off-guard, though not enough that her projectile landed on its mark. This earned another smirk, and she sighed again, knowing she would regret it later, but taming her longer dark mahogany locks in a loose knot at the back of her head.

As they walked towards Limsa, the easy camaraderie returned, with Sage once more going quiet and much more people watching than actively engaged in the conversations, happy to effectively wallflower. Y’shtola was not far from her as she quietly trailed along, keeping an eye on her, in part because she was the first Scion to speak to the gentle woman, and in part because she was still worried. A quiet smile, and a gentle nod from Sage seemed to settle her somewhat, though there would likely be a conversation later. 

When Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, her grand company commander, commended them, Sage managed not to blush, just smile with good grace as she pretended this was perfectly normal. As Thancred’s history was revealed, it earned a smile that reached her eyes- a man of many talents, so he claimed, but so too many secrets- though it was nothing compared to Urianger. Minfillia’s gentle ribbing of him only made Sage’s heart ache, just a little, reminded of those she had lost- from her family to her first love, even if she never told the subject of her affection that it was even a possibility. 

  
Yugiri left, her tail idly swaying in her wake, and Sage shook her head with a soft chuckle, her own hidden one flicking in amusement. The shinobi would find a ready audience, once she met the Rogue’s guild. Thancred walked past, and gave her a long look and a raised eyebrow, glancing pointedly between her and Yugiri before exiting. She sighed and ran a hand over her face, glad the glamour had held so far, but the rogue was one of the ones whom she had not told. Her cards had warned that keeping her scales a secret would be wise for something coming in the near future, How she was supposed to do that without covering her entire face as Yugiri did, and then _ maintain _ it when the sheer level of aetheric forces around her would likely shatter the glamours she was currently using were another question entirely. With as badly as she wanted it, passing consideration was given to searching for the rare concoction known as Fantasia- though she would need two, as she had no desire to remain something other than herself, forever.

“You are awfully lost in thought over there.”

  
Apparently it was now later. “I am fine, Y’shtola, just glad that mess is over and we can go back to Mor Dhona in peace. There was a book I was reading that I would like to reach the end of before some other crisis arrises.”

“You seemed uneasy for a while after you got back in Moraby bay, are you quite sure everything is fine?”

“Pretty much. Leviathain was very much like a monster from some very old stories I remember being told as a small child, and I may have been a little homesick, is all.”

The white haired Miqote tilted her head, and tapped her fist to her chin for a moment, thoughtfully.

“Where was that, exactly, again? I don't recall hearing you ever mention a homeland before, simply a passing mention to time spent in Sharlayan years ago, and many travels since with the Maelstrom and as a passing adventurer.”

“That might be because it does not particularly matter, hm? It’s not a place I can go back to easily for a number of reasons. And I’m not nearly drunk enough to talk about any of them.”

“You don’t drink alcohol, except perhaps the polite toasts we make at formal meetings.”

“No, not by choice barring very few, very specific kinds of occasions.”

The conjurer shook her head as Sage turned to leave- unaware that the glamour chose that moment to flicker ever so briefly.

“Are you from Doma, perhaps? Is that why Yugiri’s plight seems to find in you so strong a champion?”

She stopped, and brushed long hair behind an ear- _ behind her horn, whose root was in the same place, the gesture of habit easily concealed- _ and turned to look half over a shoulder. “No. Not Doma. But I understand what it is like to be unable to return home, for fear someone would take your life from you should you try. I understand looking for a place to belong, and finding it difficult, until you are resigned to never be at ease. Why would you think I was from Doma?”

“For just a moment your glamour flickered and I saw you walking with a tail not unlike hers swaying behind you.”

Silver eyes settled on Y’stola’s for a long moment before flicking around to see who may have been within earshot of that comment. Only Minfillia, by the door to the outside, already speaking to someone. A small sigh, and a shake of her head before she looked back at one of the few Scions who had actually tried to get to know her, and not just use her as the Shield of Light, the Warrior who would defend and save them all.

“Meet me…” A pause, as she thinks, “If you do not mind me intruding, I will attempt to explain later, if you do not mind that it be in your room in the Waking Sands, for privacy. I probably should actually tell one of you all at least a little of my story anyway, if only so the next time I go against a Primal alone, if I don;t come out the other end in one piece at least someone will know what to do with my remains.”

Morbid thought, that, but she suffered few illusions. She should have died, when she faced Ifrit, let alone Titan and Garuda, on her own. But Y’shtola deserved to know, at least, why she kept herself hidden, what she had learned that would prove difficult to manage, in the wrong places.

Yshtola nodded. “My room, then. I will make sure that we have privacy, and that you will be able to speak freely, and in confidence.”

********************************************************************************************

Sage settles- elegantly, with the grace of a dancer, and more economy of movement than most healers had- in the chair opposite Y’shtola, and fidgets with her necklace. The miqo’te sits down herself, and sets her small cane aside, and leans forward, observing small details about the woman she had previously believed had simply been an unusual hyur.

“You had a story to tell?”

A soft sigh. “Some of it will seem a bit silly. The short version is it is easier to walk among any place in Eorzea, and anywhere on this side of places even as far as Thavnair, as a Hyur than it is, as what I truly am. Unfortunately, the glamour prisms I have been using have been failing, with the means that we have had to entail to access and to a point limit the power of the Primals.”

  
“And what, might you truly be that is so terrible?”

  
“You may or may not have heard of the race called the Au’ra, native to what is best known as the Far East, both Doma and Hingashi are home to them- the Raen half is what Lady Yugiri and I both are, those with pale scales and white horns. Some have seen me and thought me part voidsent, though to be fair the Ishguardians who believed Yugiri’s refugees heretics and part dragon are closer to the truth of it. And it is the anger and fear, that I would avoid where possible. It is also nice to walk into a place and not immediately find myself at sword or spear point because of my horns and tail.”

She raised a hand, and lifted the pendant on the necklace she always wore- and triggered the glamour magic. Y’shtola saw for the first time the real face of the Warrior of Light she had come to respect. A few scattered scales on her face- almost forming a gem at the bridge of her nose up to her forhead, a delicate tracery of them on the sides of her neck, cradling the slim jawline that was a little rounder, in the Hyuran glamour. Elegant, ivory-colored horns arched back beginning at about where ears would- and as she brushed a lock of hair behind one, the scales that traced along the back of her hand were also visible, an elegant pattern that circled her wrist and went a short way up the back of her forearm. The slightly pointed nails that were painted in the glamour, were the same color as her scales, and were carefully manicured and seemed not unlike claws, though that was surely a personal choice. Her tail, flicked absently, the spined end of it idly swaying beneath her, making her quiet stillness far more animated than she seemed normally. 

“The glamour spell is one a friend of mine helped me figure out years ago, back when I foolishly believed it wouldn’t be needed while I was yet in Sharlayan. It could probably use improvement, but admittedly my specialty of magic is not in concealing things. You can do a lot of things with starfire and healing, but fooling the eye is not in its strengths. The handful of people who have nicknamed me dragon lady will be in for quite a surprise if ever au’ra are more common or widely accepted.”

She fidgeted with the necklace, and suddenly, several things about her and the way she acted suddenly made a lot more sense to Y’shtola. Sage always refused to bathe in any common area, even if it were only other females with her, always wore pants that were loose enough that that tail that idly- nervously- swayed beneath her could wind under and remain hidden. The Warrior of Light always opted for as much privacy as possible, including a small, one-person tent when it would have been far easier to share for both space and security, and would have saved her extra work setting up and breaking down camp.

“I see. How many of us have you told?”

Sage hesitated, and was about to put the glamour back up before Y’shtola put a hand on the one fidgeting with the pendant, “No, please, speak to me as yourself. No more hiding behind a face that doesn't belong to you.”

“...You are probably the third to know- the second I have shown of my own volition in a number of years. Minfillia likely knows because of the Echo, though if she does she has not hinted to me as much.”

A curious tilt of her head, as Y’shtola regarded the softly gleaming- indeed, actually softly _ glowing _silver eyes of the woman seated across from her. “Who else did you tell?”

A pause, and Sage looked down at her hands, and fidgeted with a ring she had never taken off, carved bone, and well worn from years. “Someone I dearly miss who will not see Eorzea again in likely several lifetimes. He was one of the primary people involved with the Syrcus Tower expedition, and I will never be able to see him again.” Her low soprano voice was soft, very soft and low, and mostly hid a very dep pain. Sage shook her head. “Anyway, I will probably eventually tell the other Scions- but I am admittedly a bit nervous of their reactions, so it may be a time. I had considered finding Fantasia, but that somehow feels a bit like cheapening my heritage so…”

Y’shtola nodded, and Sage smiled sheepishly as she restored the glamour, skin smoothing to replace scales, ears to replace horns. “The horns are why my hearing is so keen- and why some sounds make me wince even though they are beyond what a Hyur can normally hear. Will you keep my secret?”

“Of course I will. But not forever, especially when several of us could help you maintain it easier if we know what it is you are trying to keep hidden and why.”

A small smile, and a shy nod. Sage stood and moved toward the door, “I’ll let you be, now- but now you know, and now you also know why I actively try so very hard for privacy.”

Y’shtola agreed, softly, “Do not forget that you can talk to me- I know you are our Warrior of Light, the Eikon Slayer and all that- but I will remember that you’re a person, too, and if you do not get some rest after this fracas, I will get Urianger to lace your next teapot with something.”

That earned a soft laugh, and a very small bow, as Sage left.

She didn’t sleep immediately- she had a book to finish reading, after all, one on Allagan history.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of a series of oneshots, skimming through the content post level 50, up until the prepatches of 5.0.


End file.
